


Fragile Like Diamonds

by undernightlight



Series: Gays in Space [27]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Confused Data, Confusion, Data is struggling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: When Data visits Deep Space Nine, Doctor Bashir is there to meet him like usual. The day, however, does not go as expected. When the doctor does not answer communications following that day, Data turns to a friend to ask for help and how to go about the new found territory and space between them.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Data
Series: Gays in Space [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/951465
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Fragile Like Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this little rare pair I've really fallen in love with.

The Enterprise was once again docked at Deep Space Nine, and though Data could’ve easily decided to stay on the ship, he instead decided to leave and see the station. It had been a while since they’d docked at DS9, but this would be his fourth time aboard the station, including their initial docking all that time ago.

He stepped onto the promenade and examined what he could see, before spotting the familiar face he knew would be waiting for him. Doctor Bashir spotted him in that same moment and smiled, making his way over through the flow of people.

“Commander Data, it’s so lovely to see you again,” the doctor said as they shook hands.

“Likewise.”

Since their first meeting, they’d kept in contact. Data found Bashir an unusual doctor and an even more unusual human, and the curiosity within him compelled the conversations to continue, even if through subspace. Doctor Bashir seemed equally fascinated by Data, and it wasn’t uncommon for their conversations to revolve around each other’s work, lasting hours at a time, and across many days on more than one occasion. The doctor’s virtual company was always appreciated, but even Data found their face to face interactions to be much more pleasant. Every time Data has been to DS9, he’d inform Bashir beforehand, and then they’d meet at the airlock - Bashir’s insistence. They’d spend time at the replimat, catching up on what hadn’t been relayed previously, before Data would often accompany the doctor back to medical for a little while.

The last time, upon Bashir’s suggestion, he’d brought Spot with him, attached to a harness and leash to prevent him from wandering off, which he had a tendency to do if left in large spaces. Spot seemed to quite enjoy it, especially all the extra attention. Despite this, they both decided it’d be best for the cat to stay on the ship this time, in Geordi's safe hands. 

They held their usual replimat discussion, with Bashir and his raktajino, and Data sitting with his hands neatly folded atop the table. Data relayed across mission statements and generals about the ship, and Bashir talked about his research and adjusting to life on a space station, and especially one so far away from Earth.

“That part isn’t so much an issue,” he said as he finished his drink, “I’m not overly close with my parents anyway, so the fact that I have seen them isn’t a significant hurdle to overcome.”

“You have not seen your parents since arriving at Deep Space Nine?”

“No. I talk with my mother sometimes, messages mainly, but we haven’t been face to face in a long time, longer than being on the station actually. It’s probably been...three? Three and a half years? Something like that anyway.”

“Do you not miss them?” Though the Enterprise was aquip to handle officers and their families, there were some crew members that were not with their family, either by a mutual choice or that the family were with a difference serving Starfleet officer. He’d often heard them talk about the pain of being away from their families, from the ones they love, and the strain it put on them. He was curious if Bashir felt that same strain.

“At times, I suppose so, but not generally no. I used to be quite close with them, when I was younger, but we sort of drifted apart when I was a teenager.”

“Any discernible reason?”

The doctor shrugged and stood to return his mug to the replicator. Data followed, rising to his feet and letting Bashir lead the way to medical despite knowing exactly where it was himself. 

Over the replimat, Bashir talked about his research into multi-species organ transplants, and the implications that could have. Data found his research and reasonings quite fascinating, and was eager to see the simulated results for himself. From what the doctor had spoken of, the transplants will always be most successful when the species are more similar, like Vulans and Romulans, but that it should, hopefully, work.

Once in medical, Data got to look over the calculations, and there were all sound, along with the simulations. Data couldn’t help but notice how complex the generated equations were, and wondered how long it had taken Doctor Bashir to carry out; this research thesis hadn’t been mentioned the last time they’d had lengthy sub-space communications, and Data would assume that the doctor would have, if he’d been working on it.

He would’ve asked if two engineers hadn’t entered the medbay with second and third degree burns after a conduit exploded. Data kept out of the way as the medical staff got to work treating the injured crewmen - Lieutenant Huxley and Ensign McKendry he picked up - and instead just watched on, staying out of the way best he could. Data had spent time with Doctor Crusher, though of course he never needed medical assistance, but never had he seen a patient so at ease with their physician. Bashir was able to make comfortable small talk with McKendry as he helped with the injuries, helping put them at ease. Smiling and laughing and making light jokes which being in extreme pain, he imagined, would be quite difficult.

The ensign sustained more sufficient injuries and remained under sedation in sickbay while Huxley was released on medical leave. Bashir took a heavy sigh, though the smile never left his face, as his attention finally fell back on Data.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair.

“There is no need to apologize, doctor.”

“I’m going to stretch my legs along the promenade. Care to join me?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

And so they walked together and they talked as they went. Data couldn’t help notice that there was something different about Bashir, about how he was acting, specifically in regards to Data himself. It wasn’t unusual for the young doctor to be overly touchy - Data had been hugged by him on more than one occasion - but Bashir kept making a point of walking a bit closer than necessary, arms knocking and fingers brushing. It wasn’t an annoyance by any means, but the behaviour did stick out as strange. It wasn’t out of character, but it was of note.

Going back to work, they spend a little while longer in medical. Data took some time to stroll along the promenade, see what had changed since last time, talk to a few other people along the way, before heading back. Spending time looking over the doctor’s research and listening to him talk was always a pleasant experience, and so he didn’t mind, in between patients, when Bashir would pop over for conversation, asking as many questions, if not more, than he was answering, not that Data minded that either. Bashir asked for Data’s help with calculations which he happily provided.

The day went on, a few more injuries but nothing serious, and then Bashir’s shift finished. Following their usual routine, they would sit at the replimat for a little while, with the doctor drinking either a raktajino or tarkalean tea, before Data would return to his ship. However, Doctor Bashir surprised Data, by instead asking:

“Would you like to come back to my quarters? For a drink, perhaps?”

“You know I do not drink doctor, however, I would be happy to spend more time with you, if you would like.”

“If I didn’t want your company Data, I wouldn’t have invited you back.”

Data cocked his head and raised his brows in acknowledgement before following Bashir out of sickbay and to his quarters. Despite the time they’d spent together in the past, he had never been to the doctor’s quarters. He wasn’t expecting to in any way, he understood how important personal space was, it was just something he noted. As they walked, Data talked about his painting and his dreams, something Bashir was particularly interesting since he was there during the incident that started it all. Bashir intently listened; Data always found he was a particularly good listener, despite what Chief O’Brien had said on an occasion or so.

At the doctor’s quarters, things continued as before, with casual chatter, Bashir smiling away. Data noticed how he’d lean in a little closer, hold eye contact even more than usual, and he therefore couldn’t help but notice the doctor’s dilated pupils. With everything Data had observed, he came to a solid conclusion, which was only further solidified when Bashir lent in and kissed him.

It was short and delicate, as if Bashir thought him fragile, and then it was over. Bashir looked at him, awaiting a response, waiting for anything. Data took a moment to compose the appropriate words.

“Doctor, I believe you are confusing your scientific curiosity with romantic interest.”

Bashir looked at him for a full three seconds before his eyes fell down and he pulled himself back - it was only then that Data even realised the doctor’s hand was on his knee. His mouth hung up, like he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Is everything alright?”

“Urm, yeah - yes, everything...everything…”

“Have I offended you?” The doctor shook his head but Data suspected he was lying. “Please understand that I mean no disrespect, I am just stating what I believe to be the situation. If I am wrong, please correct me.”

“No, urm, maybe you’re right Data, you usually are, after all.” Bashir stood. “It’s late, and I’ve kept you longer than usual, you should probably get going. I’m sure Spot misses you greatly.”

Data, though confused, opted to follow the doctor’s request, and so he stood to leave. “It was a pleasure seeing you again Doctor.” Bashir hovered in the space, not fully focused on Data, staring at the carpet. “Doctor?”

“Oh yes, sorry, it was nice to see you again too.” And in that one sentence, Doctor Bashir returned to his normal, cheery self, and walked over to the door to see Data out. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes like it normally would. Data left with what he assumed was the closest he could get to unease and confusion.


End file.
